Re: Basement ; stage [adult]
Words had never been the wolf's strong suit. He could speak, of course, stringing together coherent sentences, but he found them frustrating more often than not and he preferred the way in which animals communicated. No words at all, and yet they could understand one another. But he liked her words, though whether it was what she said or how she said it that appealed to him most was difficult to discern; both were too tightly entwined. Though, really, it didn't matter, since her coaxing had its intended effect.
He had to fight to keep from biting down again, harder this time, as pleasure washed over him, but he wanted to, and that much was evident in the press of teeth against already-broken skin. But it was just that, nothing more, even when he felt her hand slide between them and she arched into her own touch. The wolf could be a greedy thing when he wanted to be, but while he took more than he gave he would never seek to deny her pleasure. They were so closely pressed against one another that he could feel every shudder of her body against his, and he whined against her shoulder, his own way of echoing the way she whimpered and trembled beneath him.
Slowly, the desire to draw blood and sink his teeth into her faded, and he licked at the bite he'd left behind before his weight shifted in preparation to move. Wolves did not linger, they were not pets who would cuddle and fall asleep against the ones who owned them. But then the metal collar around her neck caught his eye again, and he recalled his previous curiosity. He pawed lazily at the chain and fixed her with his yellow gaze. "Why?"